


If You Made the Plan, I’d Believe It

by Last_Rhodeo



Series: I'd Believe It Fic Family [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Autism, Autistic Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Childhood Friends, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Glenn Lives, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealousy, M/M, Neurodiversity, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Panic Attacks, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Last_Rhodeo/pseuds/Last_Rhodeo
Summary: Summary: A constellation of memories following Sylvain and Felix's friendship from childhood to adulthood and how it grows and changes over time.Excerpt:"The thing was, at least for Felix, people were difficult. They said things they didn’t mean. They had invisible rules and expectations for each other—'maybe secret psychic connections?' Felix wished he had a guide book, an instruction manual—'a tutorial maybe'—but he doesn’t. He doesn’t have shit. Especially not now, when it felt like his entire reality was imploding around him. Felix couldn’t even begin to fathom how he had ended up here, crushed against his bedroom door, cowering and confused as Sylvain’s latest girlfriend screamed at him."
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Glenn Fraldarius/Miklan, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Original Female Character(s)
Series: I'd Believe It Fic Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003590
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	1. The Reason

**Author's Note:**

> I am autistic, I write autistic characters.

The thing was, at least for Felix, people were difficult. They said things they didn’t mean. They had invisible rules and expectations for each other— _maybe secret psychic connections?_ Felix wished he had a guide book, an instruction manual— _a tutorial maybe_ —but he doesn’t. He doesn’t have shit. Especially not now, when it felt like his entire reality was imploding round him. Felix couldn’t even begin to fathom how he had ended up here, crushed against his bedroom door, cowering and confused as Sylvain’s latest girlfriend screamed at him. 

Maeve, Sylvain’s girlfriend, was way too close. It felt like she was going to absorb him into her body. Felix would say he was ice melt or boiled off water, except that even though he felt somewhat incorporeal he remained in pain. Her words were coming in like garbled radio static. His eardrums throbbed. Felix didn’t know what she was saying—only that she was loud. He could barely think at all, let alone make his body move or respond helpfully. Felix felt his legs give as he slid to the floor against the door, covering his ears with his hands and working to curl as far into himself as he could. 

It was in that moment that Sylvain entered their shared flat—a pizza box artfully balanced on his arm as he shoved the door with his foot. “Okay, so the pizza guy was really—what the fuck is—Maeve!” 

The pizza box went toppling to the ground as Sylvain rushed forward and grabbed Maeve by the waist—pulling her away from where Felix was balled up on the floor. 

“And you!” She screamed as she thrashed uselessly in Sylvain’s arms. 

“You have to stop screaming! You’re scaring him!” 

“Get the fuck off of me!” 

Sylvain wheeled the body in his arms round to put himself between Maeve and Felix, then released her. “I need you to quiet the fuck down, for real.” 

“Fuck you!” 

“You’ve triggered a shutdown, so either get quiet or get out of here. I don’t know what happened, but it doesn’t matter ‘cause I need to help Felix right now.” 

Maeve swallowed and bunched her hands together into fists, “You’re fucking unbelievable. I don’t care if I hurt his feelings or if I broke him or whatever. He deserves it. He’s a freak and you’re...you’re a bastard. You deserve each other.” 

“Get. Out,” Sylvain bit his words out, exhaling sharply. 

“I am.” Maeve turned on her heel, “and I won’t be back,” storming out of the flat and slamming the door behind her. 

“Fucking shite,” Sylvain cursed under his breath as he turned round to look at Felix.

Felix had curled himself completely into a ball on the floor, but he wasn’t hitting or hurting himself or anything. Sylvain nodded, going through his mental checklist of Felix shutdown protocol, and quickly walked to the hamper where they kept the communal blankets for the living area—grabbing as many as he could. 

“I’m gonna cover you in these, okay Fe? And I’m going to get the white board.” 

Felix didn’t reply, but Sylvain began draping the blankets over Felix, covering him completely. Sylvain felt well-practised in the art of Felix. He had seen shutdowns and meltdowns; he knew all of Felix’s signs and movements. He could do this. And he could deal with Maeve later. 

“Scratch the white board; I see your phone—I’ll get it for you so you can text me,” Sylvain said, turning to reach where Felix’s phone had slid across the floor. 

Under the blankets, Felix was working on coming back online—that what Sylvain had always called it when they were kids. Felix might not understand people, but Sylvain at least understood him. Sylvain was good under pressure, he always remembered the plan. He was just what Felix needed. 

After a few moments in the soft darkness, Felix felt more aware of his body. His head and ears still thrummed uncomfortably but the weight of several blankets grounding him was helping. Felix realised he needed to remove his hands from his face and ears. He was digging into the skin there and noticed that it hurt. 

Sylvain returned with Felix’s mobile phone and pushed it under the blankets. “I got my phone out, let me know if you need more weight.” 

Felix got his hands to unscrew from round his head and blearily opened his eyes. The phone was only a few centimetres from his face, but it took a concentrated effort to figure out how to get it in his hands and type. 

After a few minutes Sylvain’s phone buzzed in his hands: 

**From Fe (17:36):** _more weight_

Sylvain huffed, squatting down next to Felix, “Yeah, okay. You’re in front of the door to your room, so I can’t get the weighted blanket. Is it okay if I sit on you?” 

**From Fe (17:36):** _pls_

_let me move first tho_

The blanket pile in front of Sylvain shifted to become flatter. Sylvain hummed. “Tell me when you’re ready.” 

**From Fe (17:37):** _okay I’m lying on my front_

“I’m gonna lie down on you. Two taps on the floor if you want me to get up.” 

Sylvain carefully arranged himself on top of Felix, gently crushing him into the floor over the pile of blankets. It wasn’t exactly comfortable for Sylvain, but for Felix, it was everything he needed. 

Sylvain was warm and heavy, perfectly weighing down every point of Felix’s body into the floor. He’d admit it was better to be crushed into a couch, bed, or even a plush rug, but the floor would do. Especially now. Felix noticed that Sylvain still smelled like the outside, like autumn wind and petrol and grass. Sylvain smelled like his cologne too—bergamot, sandalwood, and rosemary. Felix concentrated on Sylvain’s soft inhale and exhale, as their bodies slowly came to breathe as one. 

They stayed that way for a long time. Sylvain quiet except for his soft breath. Felix never wanted the crushing to end, but knew, realistically, it had to. And maybe being under all these blankets was getting too warm. But, he felt more himself than he had all evening. Felix slammed an open palm into the floor twice, indicating Sylvain could move. 

Sylvain hummed low in his throat in affirmation and rolled off of Felix and onto the floor. “D’you need anything? Water?” 

Under the blankets, Felix shook his head and began the slow work of shuffling off the blankets and moving to sit up against the door. “No,” he said when finally righted himself. 

Sylvain looked up at Felix from where he was lying on the floor in front of him. Looking more carefully Sylvain could see little red crescent marks on Felix’s cheeks where he had dug his nails. “Want to move into your room now?” 

Felix thumbed at one of the fleece blankets, smoothing and re-smoothing the fabric. He liked to watch how it shifted, he liked to feel how soft it was. “Yeah.” 

“Okay, can you work on getting yourself up while I clean up the pizza?” 

Felix’s gaze jolted towards Sylvain and then towards the entrance to the flat, “Is the pizza ruined?” 

“I don’t know yet Fe, but I did drop it on the way in.” 

“Did you drop it straight down?” 

Sylvain put his hands over his face and groaned, “Felix I literally don’t know yet. I haven’t investigated the pizza situation, and I wasn’t paying attention when I dropped it. ‘Cause you know? I was kind of focusing on other things?” 

Felix nodded and turned his gaze back to the blanket in his hands. “I still want pizza.” 

Sylvain pulled his hands off of his face, so he could begin to prop himself up. “In the event the pizza is ruined I will order another one.” 

Felix said nothing but continued to turn the blanket in his hands. Sylvain laughed to himself as he moved to stand and made his way to where he had dropped the pizza box by the door. _Of course, the state of the pizza is the priority._

“So far so good—it’s right side up.” 

“Mm, good.” Felix pushed himself up, taking the fleece blanket with him. “I don’t want to wait another forty minutes for a new one.” 

Sylvain gingerly opened the box lid and peered inside. “The cheese is no longer picture-perfect, but it’s not ruined.” 

“Are Maeve’s toppings touching my slices?” 

“I’ll have to move it to the counter for further inspection, but I believe at least two slices are safe for you to eat.” 

Felix nodded and opened his bedroom door. 

“I’ll be right there, Fe. Text me if you want a drink too.” 

Sylvain brought the pizza box into the kitchen. The top layer of cheese was frighteningly askew, but the toppings, for the most part, had stayed in their place within the great cheese avalanche. Not one of Maeve’s sweet peppers had found their way onto Felix’s pepperoni slices. This was a win. 

He fished out a pair of cooking chopsticks from the dish rack and began artfully pushing the cheese and toppings back into place, careful to do Felix’s slices first. Then his phone vibrated on the counter. 

**From Fe (17:58)** : _bring me a sparkle water_

Sylvain hummed and turned to the fridge. “We only have lime left. That okay?” 

**From Fe (17:59):** _yes_

“I’m just getting the slices sorted, I’ll be right there.” He grabbed Felix’s seltzer water and put it on the counter. 

Sylvain pulled two clean plates from the dish rack and shovelled their pizza slices onto them. Looking at his food made his stomach turn. Why did he agree to sweet peppers and onions? He knew why, of course, and he wanted to accommodate Maeve—be a good boyfriend. It seemed ridiculous now that he’d compromised on his dinner. 

It was a small and stupid thing that had made her happy for all of 10 minutes, and now— _now she’s apparently never coming back_ , Sylvain thought bitterly. He had liked her? Hadn’t he? She was pretty, she liked going on dates and holding hands and doing all the cute things couples do together. But he left her alone for not ten minutes with Felix and she had made him shutdown. 

Sylvain sighed, balancing the plates and Felix’s drink in his arms, years of serving skills coming in clutch. 

He tried to swallow his anger and hurt down. He didn’t know what had happened yet. He didn’t know if he should be mad at Maeve or Felix or himself. Maybe all of them. It didn’t matter, not really, Sylvain told himself—there would always be another girl, another pizza, another night taking care of Felix. 

And maybe he’d finally land a girl who understood how things were? Maybe. 

“Alight, Fe,” Sylvain said as he shuffled Felix’s plate and seltzer water onto his bedside table. 

Felix looked up from his phone, where he was watching a metalworking video with the sound off, to examine his plate of pizza. “Thanks, Syl,” he whispered as he moved the plate into his lap. 

Sylvain had settled into the chair in front of Felix’s desk, twisting one leg up onto the back and folding the other onto the seat. “You feeling a bit better?” He asked round a bite of pizza. 

Felix nodded as he shoved one of his slices into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully as he looked down at his phone, which was still silently playing the video. On the screen, a metal worker poured molten iron into a mould. 

Felix knew, like their earlier crushing session, the comfortable silence between them couldn’t last either—they’d have to talk about what happened with Maeve eventually. He was dreading it, mostly because he wasn’t sure what had happened to cause her outburst. 

Felix opened his can of lime flavoured sparkling water and took a sip, relishing the sharp pricks on his tongue. He swallowed hard and then spoke, “I don’t know what happened, Syl. I’m sorry I ruined our film night.” 

Sylvain bit off a chunk of crust and looked at Felix intently as he chewed. “Don’t apologise before we figure out what even happened. And don’t say you ruined anything. She’s the one who triggered your shutdown.” 

Felix put his plate and drink back onto the bedside table and wrung his hands into the blanket. “It must have been my fault,” he said quietly. 

“Even if you made her angry, she should never have yelled at you like that.” 

Felix nodded. 

“We don’t have to talk about it yet.” 

“No. No, I want to figure it out.” 

“If you’re sure. You want me to come over there with you?” 

Felix looked up towards where Sylvain sat. It looked like he was looking at him, but Sylvain knew better. Felix was looking at a point just next to Sylvain’s face. Felix nodded. “But don’t...don’t...” 

“Don’t touch?” 

Felix shook his head, “Don’t...don’t...” Felix shifted his gaze back to his hands in the blanket, “don’t get loud.” 

“Fe,” Sylvain let out a shocked breath, “I won’t get loud, I promise.” 

“But you’ll get mad. I know, I know it’s my fault and you’ll...” 

Sylvain shot out of the chair and moved to where Felix was on his bed, “No, no, Felix. Even if I get angry, I won’t shout at you. I promise I’d... I’d...” 

Felix leaned his head towards Sylvain’s chest, “But you can get mad. You can, you can, you should feel your feelings too.” 

Sylvain wrapped his arms tightly round Felix’s back. “I can be angry and not yell at you. I never have to yell.” 

Felix nodded against Sylvain’s chest before pulling back. He shifted in his bed so that there was more room for Sylvain, and Sylvain silently moved where space opened up. 

“How should we start?” 

Felix shrugged and hugged his knees to his chest. He was trying to wedge himself against the wall to achieve maximum pressure. 

“I can ask some closed questions to get things going?” 

Felix nodded. 

“Okay. I texted you that the pizza was here. Did you come out of your room while I was downstairs?” 

Felix nodded. 

“And she didn’t knock or ask you to come out, right? You came out on your own.” 

Felix nodded. 

“Was she on the couch when you came out?” 

Felix considered, “No. She was in the kitchen.” In his mind, Felix brought the moment back to life. Maeve in the kitchen looking round for the plates in preparation for the pizza. 

Sylvain nodded, “And she was speaking to you?” 

“No,” Felix said, wringing his hands into the blanket and looking up at the ceiling, “I asked her a question.” Felix let out a heavy sigh, “I...I asked her when she was going home.” Felix remembered he was looking at Maeve’s hands, which trembled as she spoke to him like she was afraid to even be in the same room with him. 

“Okay,” Sylvain said with a rising inflexion, “That was a reasonable question. She was here all day.” 

Felix nodded, “And she stayed over last night, so she needed to go home tonight.” 

“That is the arrangement,” Sylvain agreed. 

“But then she said she wasn’t going home.” 

“What?” 

“Well, she said, ‘actually I’m thinking I won’t go home tonight since we’re going to be watching films late.’ But that’s—that’s not right. Maeve—she agreed, right? That she wouldn’t stay over two nights in a row?” 

“Yeah, Fe, that was the agreement we all made. Shouldn’t have tried to change it without asking both of us.” 

Felix didn’t reply but pushed himself harder against the wall behind him. 

“Can you tell me what happened next?” 

Felix nodded furiously, “I—I told her that she couldn’t. And she said I was being unreasonable, selfish, that—that it shouldn’t be a big deal—that I should be used to her being here.” 

Sylvain nodded and put his hand on Felix's knee, “Careful you don’t hit your head.” 

Felix shuffled away from the wall to lean into Sylvain. “And I said no b-because I had already agreed to let her stay for film night. That already wasn’t fair to me, and that she was the one being selfish.” 

“It doesn’t sound like this was your fault, Fe.” 

“I...I’m not finished.” Felix clutched Sylvain’s shirt. He was remembering, reliving the moment, not even an hour ago in full, vivid detail. “She hadn’t really been yelling yet. She didn’t start yelling until...until...” 

Sylvain smoothed his hands firmly over Felix’s back, “It’s okay, take your time.” 

Felix was transported back to the moment Maeve seemed to snap. He remembered what happened. It was, he felt, his fault after all. “She said something about how I needed to respect that she is allowed to be selfish with your time since you’re dating. And I said ‘I understand that you two are dating’, but that she was supposed to share with me—that it was ‘my turn’. And that’s when she started screaming.” 

“Fuck,” Sylvain said softly under his breath, “you said it was ‘your turn’?” He did his best to suppress a shudder at what had Maeve read into that. This kind of thing had happened before, with other girlfriends, and it never went well. That’s why they had the rule about phrasing. And the rule about discussing the management of  Sylvain’s time with Sylvain present. 

“It was an accident. I know I’m not supposed to say it like that.” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I mean, it’s not ideal, but it’s understandable. Do you remember what she said after that?” 

“She said ‘what,’ you know? She wanted an explanation. And...and she kept getting closer to me the whole time we were talking and she was too close—in my space, and I was having trouble with my words already.” 

“She was escalating things on purpose.” 

“And I said that—that she had you last night, so it was my turn. Obviously, it was my turn.” Felix pressed his face deeper into Sylvain’s chest, “And she just kept asking what I meant by that until I couldn’t...I...” 

“Until you shutdown?” 

Felix nodded. 

“Okay,” Sylvain sighed. “I see what happened. It...it wouldn’t have happened if she had just waited to ask if she could stay until we were both there.” 

“Y-yeah, but I broke a rule.” 

Sylvain nodded as he moved his hands into Felix’s hair. “You did, but she broke a rule too.” 

“Is she going to come back?” 

“Uh, definitely not today. Well,” Sylvain sighed, “she said she was never coming back, but I don’t know if she meant it.” 

Felix nodded. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted her for film night.” 

“You know, Fe? I’m not so sure I did.” 

~~~ 

Sylvain sat pressed up against the car window, looking intently on the rolling landscape that stretched alongside the road. “Are we there yet?” He asked, his voice muffled against the glass. 

Miklan, his big brother, flicked Sylvain’s arm, “Of course we’re not there yet. Do you see any fucking buildings?” 

“Miklan!” Their mother gasped from the front seat, “Language.” 

Miklan rolled his eyes and flicked Sylvain again, but harder. 

Sylvain covered his arm defensively, unable to scoot any closer to the car door. 

“ Twenty-five minutes,” their Father grunted. “We’ll be there in twenty-five minutes.” 

“I thought this field looked familiar!” Sylvain chirped. 

Miklan snorted, “You remember a field from two years ago?” 

“Yes!” Sylvain replied confidently. “Don’t you remember? It’s a horse farm.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Aren’t you excited to see Glenn, Mik?” 

“No.”

“Come on! You are! You love playing knights with him!” 

“We do not play knights,” Miklan hissed, “we practice fencing.” 

“It’s essentially playing knights.” 

“Shut up!”

“Boys!” Their father said at the same time their mother scolded, “Language!” 

“I can’t wait to see Fe,” Sylvain whispered excitedly, “I miss him so much.” 

“You write him letters every month,” Miklan huffed, crossing his arms, “how can you miss him?” 

“Letters aren’t the same,” Sylvain replied, uncanny seriousness colouring his tone. 

“At least he says something in letters.” 

“Miklan!” Their father warned. 

“What? He’s practically non-verbal.” 

“He speaks just fine!” Sylvain cut him off, voice trembling with anger, “just... just he uses writing instead.” 

“Whatever.” 

Their mother turned in her seat to look back at them, “You know, Mrs Fraldarius told me Felix has made a lot of progress with his speech therapist this year. I bet you’ll be able to have full conversations with him now.” 

Sylvain nodded. He had heard about the speech therapist in Felix’s letters and wasn’t sure if he thought it was a good thing or not. He wouldn’t make Felix talk if he didn’t want to. 

“Wow,” Miklan said, voice dripping with faux wonder, “maybe now he can start year one.” 

“Felix is year three!” Sylvain protested, “he’s very smart! Non-speaking doesn’t mean stupid!” 

Their mother nodded, “You know better Miklan. Just because Felix’s autistic doesn’t mean—," 

“But he’s not in real year three. He’s in special classes.” 

“No,” Sylvain protested again, “Mum, he’s not right? He’s in real year three.” 

Their mother nodded, “Even if Felix was in a class specifically for autistic children it would still be real school.” 

“Whatever.” 

“No, not whatever,” their mother insisted, “I don’t need you embarrassing us by saying something ableist in front of the Fraldarius’.” 

Miklan rolled his eyes. “I get it.” 

“You better,” their father warned, glancing in the rearview mirror to look at Miklan. “I will not tolerate any mean spirited behaviour from you. It’s completely below us. Don’t say anything if you can’t be polite.” 

“I said I got it.” 

“Good.” Their father turned his eyes back to the road and their mother shifted back round. 

“You boys want to play the 'car game'?” Their mother asked lightly. 

Sylvain and Miklan said, “No,” simultaneously. 

~ 

The Fraldarius’ home was on acres of land that was a cattle farm. They raised highland cows—big beautiful brown cows with kind faces. Their house was an extremely old fortress that had been in their family for ages. Sylvain thought it was the coolest place to live, and he desperately wished Felix would ask him to live them so they could have adventures together every day. That and he could be away from Miklan permanently. 

Sadly for Sylvain, they only visited the Fraldarius’ a few times a year, and last year they couldn’t go at all. It had felt like torture to be separated for so long. Sure, Sylvain had other friends at school, but they weren’t the same. They weren’t Felix. And now he was moments away from being reunited with his best friend, as he and his family walked up the long path to the Fraldarius’ front door. 

Sylvain looked up at where Felix’s bedroom window was and squinted. He was sure he saw a dart of movement shifting the curtain, but he didn’t have much time to ponder it because suddenly the front door opened and Glenn Fraldarius came bounding out. 

“Mik!” The boy shouted excitedly. He was much taller than the last time they had seen him and his long blue-black hair had grown down to his waist. 

“Gl-Glenn?” Miklan choked out, his cheeks going pink as he opened his arms to receive Glenn hard against his chest. 

“You didn’t text me back at all!” Glenn said, his face pressed into Miklan’s sternum, “I should be mad at you.” 

“I—I—“ Miklan stuttered. 

But Sylvain wasn’t paying attention to their reunion anymore, because waiting in the open doorway was Felix and his mum and dad. 

Sylvain raised his arm to wave at them, but Felix lifted his hands out as if to say ‘come here’, and so Sylvain did. He ran in front of his parents to reach Felix faster. 

“H-hello Fe! Mr and Mrs Fraldarius,” Sylvain amended, “Sorry for running.” 

“It’s fine son,” Mr Fraldarius laughed. 

Mrs Fraldarius touched Felix’s shoulder, “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say to Sylvain, dear?” 

Felix nodded and fixed his gaze to the left of Sylvain’s head, “Sylvain,” he said softly, “happy you’re h-here.” 

“Good job looking dear, that was excellent.” 

Felix turned his gaze down to his feet. 

“You don’t have to look at me, Felix,” Sylvain replied just as softly as Felix had spoken. 

“But he should,” Mrs Fraldarius corrected, “if he can.” 

Felix nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on his shoes, but blindly reached out to grab Sylvain’s jumper to drag him into the house. 

“Where’re we going?” Sylvain wondered aloud. 

“My room,” Felix whispered, tugging him towards the staircase. 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go wherever you go—you don’t have to drag me.” 

~ 

Both sets of parents were eating their grown-up meal in the dining room, leaving Miklan and Glenn to look after Felix and Sylvain’s supper. 

Mrs Fraldarius had made them cottage pie and it was topped with the creamiest mash Sylvain had ever eaten. He looked over to Felix’s plate and saw that he was meticulously separating the layers of pie—a pile for the peas, a pile for the meat, a pile for the mash... 

“Mik, did you hear about Radley yet?” Glenn asked, leaning over the counter to poke Miklan’s chest. 

“What?” 

“You never replied to me—so did you apply to Radley College as I asked you to?” 

Miklan swallowed hard, “Aye. I did.” 

“And?” Glenn asked expectantly. 

“Well, I haven’t heard yet. But Glenn, you know my grades have been shite...” 

“You didn’t even send me your entrance essays! I was so worried you weren’t even going to apply.” 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Miklan looked down at his plate, flushing, “I did sign up for tutoring this last term though. I got my grades up a bit, but I don’t know that it’s enough.” 

“Still,” Glenn insisted, “you have rugby.” 

“Aye,” Miklan nodded, “I do. And rowing. And football.” 

Glenn huffed, “And it’s fine that you’re doing sixth forms entry. Loads of guys do. You’ll get in and then we’ll be in school together!” 

“But I am... worried... about it,” Miklan whispered morosely. “I’m not half as smart as you.” 

“Shut up,” Glenn laughed, jabbing his finger harder into Miklan’s chest, “you just don’t apply yourself.” 

The four sat quietly for a bit. Sylvain noticed Felix had finished sorting his foods and had begun actually eating it. Peas first. 

“Worst first,” Felix whispered, inclining his head towards Sylvain. 

Sylvain nodded, “That makes sense.” 

“Uh, Glenn?” Miklan said softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“I forgot to ask for the wifi pin. I... I just remembered...I think Radley does release answers today.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Glenn yelped. “Let’s go, let's go to my room right now. You can use my laptop while I put the password on your phone!” 

“I mean, are you—?” 

“Come on!” Glenn whipped round the counter to drag Miklan out of the kitchen. 

“We’re supposed to be watching Syl and Felix!” Miklan weakly protested. 

“Nah, they got this. You got this right, Sylvain?” 

Sylvain turned to watch the duo’s antics. “We’re fine.” 

“You heard the lad!” 

“Alright, alright.” 

Sylvain turned back round and pushed some more cottage pie onto his fork. 

“We should go to the same college, right?” 

“Yeah,” Felix said softly, turning his eyes somewhere near Sylvain’s head, “I go where you go.” Then he turned back to his plate, “But you’re not like Miklan. You’ll get into Radley at year eight.” 

Sylvain laughed, “I hope so!” But it was drowned out by the sudden hollering from upstairs. 

“I got in?!” Miklan practically screamed. 

“I told you! I told you!” Glenn shouted over him. 

~~~ 

“Are—are you mad at me?” Felix whispered into Sylvain’s clothes. 

Sylvain hadn’t stopped pressing his hands into Felix’s head and back. It was comforting for both of them if he was honest with himself. “I’m... “ How should he explain this to Felix? He wasn’t sure. They’d had this come up before, but he wasn’t even sure what Maeve had thought Felix meant. If she took it that way. “I’m only a little upset Felix, and mostly at Maeve for yelling at you.” 

“But you are, at least, a little upset at me?” Felix confirmed. 

“Mmm, maybe I was a moment ago,” Sylvain considers, “but now I’m glad film night is just us.” 

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah, Fe. I was looking forward to 'us time'—weren’t you?” 

Felix nodded and shifted to sit up, looking towards Sylvain’s face. “I wanted to cuddle on the couch. I wanted to do it yesterday too.” 

“Yeah? We can’t do that when Maeve is here.” Sylvain smiled, brushing stray hairs off Felix’s face, “Anything else you were looking forward to?”

Felix swallowed hard and nodded. 

“Is it a secret?” Sylvain asked, teasingly. 

Felix shook his head ‘no’. 

“Well, you can tell me,” Sylvain brushed down Felix’s neck and watched him shutter, “Maeve isn’t here anymore.”

Felix shifted his eyes from a point next to Sylvain’s head and actually looked into his eyes. 

“Use your words?” Sylvain asked, sweeping his hand to rest firmly on Felix’s sternum. 

“Don’t,” Felix breathed out, “make me.” 

“Never,” he whispered back. Then, Sylvain surged forward to press his mouth against Felix’s. He pushed him down into the bed. Felix kissed back hungrily, wrapping his arms round Sylvain’s neck and holding him there. Felix bucked his hips into Sylvain’s once, twice, encouraging him to do whatever he wanted to do next. 

Sylvain moaned into Felix’s mouth before breaking away. Felix leaned up to chase after him but settled for the hollows of Sylvain’s neck when he realized the angle would be too much for him to accomplish.

“Wait, wait,” Sylvain hissed. 

Felix stopped suckingly, listening, a silent gesture Sylvain knew meant, “what?” 

“It’s not one of our real film nights unless we do this on the couch. With a film on.” 

Felix huffed, “We never even watch them though.” 

“Whatever happened to tradition, Fe?” 

Felix fell back into his pillows and sighed, “You’re right, of course, it wouldn’t be film night without the film.” 

  
  



	2. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix & Sylvain in school together + Sylvain leaving for uni + some present-day Felix/Sylvain (+ a small dose of Miklan/Glenn drama for spice)

Felix was right, Sylvain wasn’t Miklan. He got into Radley straight away for year eight and spent two lonely years without Felix. 

There was, of course, Miklan and Glenn his first year—not that he wanted to spend any time with his brother, and Glenn was always, always with Mik. And then in Sylvain’s second year, when Glenn was in upper sixth and Miklan was freshly started at Cardiff Metropolitan University—the undisputed best school for rugby—Glenn was too busy fretting over all the girls Miklan would inevitably shag after two years stuck at an all-boys school to pay Sylvain any mind. 

Now Glenn was at Cardiff University getting his BSc in Medicine while trying not to sulk too much over Miklan, who had indeed found a serious girlfriend in the single year they were separated. Sylvain could hardly imagine Miklan shackling himself to a girl, especially with Glenn literally in the same city as him, mooning over him every chance he got. Sylvain thought Miklan was an idiot, but that wasn’t anything new. 

“You think Glenn’s gonna get over Miklan?” Sylvain asked as he lounged in Felix’s tiny dormitory bed, dropping his reading to his chest. 

Felix looked up from his work at the desk, placing his mechanical pencil against his lip. “I don’t think Glenn knows how to give up, let alone get over Miklan.” 

Sylvain laughed and sputtered, “Fuck, I guess.” 

Felix turned back to his work and wrote for a few minutes before stopping again. “Syl?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you… uh, want a girlfriend too?” 

Sylvain sat up sharply, “Um, I mean, I’ve thought about it? I mean, I’ve thought about dating.” 

Felix put down his pencil, “Have you…dated anyone then?” 

“No,” Sylvain felt his chest clench uncomfortably, “I haven’t.” 

“What...what about kissing?” Felix looked up at the ceiling, “have you kissed anyone yet?” 

Sylvain didn’t like where this was going. “W-who would I be kissing, Fe?” 

“I don’t know,” Felix whispered, resting his head fully on the back of his chair. 

“Well I haven’t been kissing anyone, so don’t worry about it.” 

“I’m not worried.” 

“Aren’t you?” 

“No. I’m thinking about my birthday.” 

“What?” The horrible feeling in Sylvain’s chest worsened. He felt like his heart was being clenched between a set of pliers. 

“It’s my birthday this weekend.” 

“I know,” Sylvain swallowed. 

“I’ll be 13.” 

“I know.” 

“Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, but we didn’t do anything.” 

“Fe,” Sylvain got up from Felix’s bed, leaving his reading behind, “why—?” 

“It’s a dumb holiday,” Felix said, ignoring him, “but I felt a little sad that you didn’t even visit.” 

“I was studying. We didn’t have plans for yesterday. We never do anything for Valentine’s.” 

Felix sighed, “I know. But we have plans for my birthday, right?” 

Sylvain stood behind Felix, who still had his head tilted up against the back of the chair. “We’re not boyfriends, Felix, we’re not dating.” 

“Yeah, I know that.” 

“So why are you upset we didn’t have Valentine's plans? Why are you asking me about kissing?” 

“Even Miklan made time for Glenn on Valentine’s. He took him to lunch and brought flowers—pink lilies apparently. Glenn texted me about it yesterday.” 

Sylvian swallowed hard, studying Felix’s face, “I—I’m not Miklan.” 

“Of course.” 

“And you’re not Glenn.” 

“Duh?” 

“So we don’t have to do what they do.” 

“Yeah,” Felix laughed, “we get to be better.” 

Sylvian put his hands on Felix’s shoulders, “Sit up and turn round.” 

“Okay.” Felix complied, watching a fixed point behind Sylvain’s head. 

“This has nothing to do with them, okay? Nothing we do has anything to do with Glenn and Miklan. We are us.” 

“I know that. Why do you keep saying all this obvious stuff?” 

“Because I need to make sure you know.” Sylvain yanked Felix off of the chair, “If I kiss you it’s not ‘cause we’re like them or we’re the better version of them or whatever.” 

Felix nodded. 

“If I kiss you it’s because we both want to. Because I w-want to. Because it’s you.” 

“You’re acting like I don’t already know you want to kiss me.” 

“You already knew?” 

“I thought you were waiting. For Valentine’s Day. Or maybe my birthday. It would be an okay birthday gift. Better if it was supplemented—“ 

Sylvain darted forward to press a quick, chaste kiss on Felix’s mouth. “There. Happy early birthday—belated valentines—whatever you want.” 

“I think I want a better kiss for my actual birthday,” Felix laughed, pushing Sylvain away. “And to watch the documentary on historical weaponry you got for me.” 

“Felix! That’s supposed to be a surprise!”

~

It was summer term a year later and Felix and Sylvain had moved to do work in Sylvain’s dormitory. Sylvain’s room was overall cooler and quieter, but his bed was just as cramped and uncomfortable as Felix’s. They were reading there—knee brushing knee, backs against the wall when Felix broke the silence, “Syl?” 

“Hmm?” Sylvain thumbed another page over in his book before turning to Felix, who was wringing a hand through the baby hairs at the back of his neck which didn’t reach the high ponytail he kept his hair in. Felix’s hair was long, though not quite as long as Glenn kept his, and pin-straight rather than full of gentle waves. 

“I feel weird.” 

“Weird how?” 

Felix pulled his hair harder and tried to focus on the way the light pooled in from the window in little spots—dappled by the leaves in the tree outside Sylvian’s window. “Just weird. I don’t know. It smells like you in here.” 

“If it’s offensive we could go to the library? Or your room?” 

“No. That’s not—how do you tell the difference between an emotion and like a bodily sensation?” 

“What?” 

“Like maybe I just need a wee? Or maybe my stomach’s off?” 

“Well, what’s it feel like?” 

“I don’t know! I just told you that.” Felix pushed his legs flat on the bed so that their knees were no longer touching. 

“Sorry, I just want to help,” Sylvain said as he reached a hand over to Felix’s thigh, not actually touching him, “is it painful—the emotion or whatever?” 

Felix shook his head and flopped his head against the wall behind him, “It’s like a pressure building. I don’t know what to do about it.” 

“Well, when did you notice it?”

“It was more when you were touching me.” 

“Is it… is it good or bad?” 

Felix considered for a moment. He could usually tell if a feeling was good or bad—most things were easily categorized into those boxes. “I think it could be good?” He said after a while, “It’s not hurting me.” 

“You think it’s an emotion then? Or you think it’s physical, like a body sign?” 

“I’m still not sure. Are all bodily sensations painful when they're uncomfortable?” 

Sylvain bit his lip and pressed his hand into the bed next to Felix’s leg instead of on top. “No, I guess not? Like when you’re trapped in the car for a long while and you finally get to wee? That’s not bad.” 

“Gross,” Felix shifted his gaze to Sylvain’s forehead. It was kind of sweaty and his auburn hair was slightly stuck to it. Felix followed a bead of sweat slowly rolling down Sylvain’s cheek until it caught on his chin. “I know I said I might need a wee, but I’ve ruled it out.” 

Sylvain wiped his hair back off his forehead. Felix thought that looked better than it sticking to his forehead. He wondered if he should tell him so. He knew it would make Sylvain blush. “I can think of another one that’s not bad,” Sylvain said after a beat. 

“Yeah?” 

Felix watched Sylvain swallow nervously, shifting under his attention. Sylvain always knew when he was actually looking at him. “I mean there’s wanking of course—you, you always feel good after a wank.” Sylvain’s cheeks were pink now and he averted his gaze to the wall. “And there’s, uh, pressure? You feel a build-up of pressure.” 

“You think I might want to wank?” 

“I dunno!” Sylvain sputtered, flushing harder, “I’m only trying to be helpful! With—with figuring out what the feeling is! I’m not trying to help you wank, I mean!” 

Felix nodded, “Don’t worry about it. I think I’m peckish actually.” 

“Peckish?” 

“Yeah, peckish. You have any crisps?” 

Sylvain shook his head, “Yeah, I’ve got tons of crisps, loads of them in my closet. Second shelf.” 

“Cheers, mate,” Felix replied, tapping Sylvain’s head as he got off the bed. 

“You’re going to really kill me, you know that?” 

Felix opened the closet and eyed the crisps bags, settling on Piper’s Chorizo flavour. “You’re going to die because I’m eating your crisps? Syl, you have to feed yourself properly.” 

“What? Fe! No! That’s not what I—,” 

~~~ 

Sylvain woke up in Felix’s bed, which was not at all unusual. If he didn’t have a girl over, he was always going to sleep there if Felix let him. Felix didn’t always let him. 

Felix was up already, doing his morning strength training workout. Three days a week, like clockwork, Felix would complete the set of exercise movements clearly illustrated on laminated sheets taped up on his bedroom wall. 

“Morning,” Sylvain mumbled, sitting up to watch Felix do tricep presses. 

“You have four missed calls from Maeve, at least. I had to turn off your phone.” 

Sylvain groaned, “Fucking shite. I’m sorry that must have kept you up.” 

“It didn’t after I turned your phone off.” 

“You know I’m not getting back with her, right?” 

“Even if she wants to sort it out?” Felix asked, putting down his dumbbells. “I thought you liked her?”

Sylvain nodded. “I thought about it, and I’m not going to stay with anyone that intentionally triggers a meltdown or shutdown for you. We’re a packaged deal. So if she likes me she has to like you too.” 

“What about the strike system?” 

“No more strike system. Only girls who like, know about Autism and aren’t cunts about it.” 

Felix shrugged. “I don’t think you’re going to find a girlfriend who’s actually okay with me though.” 

“What? Of course, I can—there are loads of girls who are into psychology and neuroscience and education and whatnot.” 

“No, I mean, even if you find a girlfriend who’s knowledgeable about autism, I’m starting to doubt you’ll find a girl who’s okay with me.” 

Sylvain swallowed hard, watching Felix do a set of pull-up repetitions in the doorframe. “People know what...polyamory is nowadays.” 

Felix released the pull-up bar and swung down, crossing his arms over his chest, “Is that what you’re going to start telling them? You’ve never led with that angle before.” 

“We’re not dating,” Sylvain said softly, “so why bring it up right away. They don’t need to know our private business upfront.” 

“Yeah, but Syl, four months into dating someone is far past the ‘upfront’ window. I think you should tell them when you agree to date. At least explain that you’re non-exclusive. Emphasise the  _ sexually _ part.” 

“I do! Er, I mean, I always explain that you’re in my life and they have to accept it.” 

Felix shook his head, “That’s not the same. It’s lying by omission. At the very least.” 

“I’ve explained it to you before. It’s not lying. It isn’t. Every girl I’ve ever dated knows that you come first. That you’re the person I’ll always go home to.” Sylvain stood from the bed and took Felix’s shoulder firmly in his hand, “If they happen to misunderstand...well...I just don’t think it’s appropriate to tell them that I’m occasionally shagging my best mate slash brother-in-law. It’s the least important part of us.” 

~~~ 

It was lent term, a month after Felix’s fifteenth birthday, when it happened for the first time. And even though Felix had initiated the whole thing, Sylvain couldn’t help but feel he had somehow used his friend, corrupted him in some way. 

_ We hardly did anything _ , he argued with himself,  _ but it still counts as sex? Sexual activities? It’s still an important milestone, and you _ —he tried to silence his mind by speaking up, “Don’t you think I should have taken you on a few dates or something first?” 

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, shaking out his rumpled jumper before sliding it over his arms and torso. 

“Before...before you know, doing that? You don’t think I should have, I don’t know? Bought you flowers or something? Took you out to a fancy dinner?” 

“Ew, I don’t even like flowers.” 

“That’s not the point. I—you don’t feel like I…”

“Is this post-coital dysphoria? Are you feeling anxious Syl?” 

“What? How do you—what are you?” Sylvain sputtered. 

“I read about it online. Do you feel anxious? Are you feeling insecure about your body?” 

“No! I mean, I guess I do feel anxious about—about what we just—” 

“It’s okay to feel anxious, Syl, it’s totally normal. 41% of men will experience post-coital dysphoria in their lifetime.” 

“I—I—” 

“Do you want to perform the anxiety ritual? Here, I’m going to squeeze you really tight,” Felix said, squatting down to where Sylvain sat on the floor next to his bed. 

Felix leaned into him fully, crushing him just the way Sylvain usually crushed Felix when he was anxious or under-stimulated or just wanted to be crushed. Sylvain thought it was good, grounding, but he still felt that slightly nauseous tightness in his chest. 

Then Felix moved one hand into Sylvain’s hair and began petting him, speaking softly into his neck, “You’re my best mate, Syl, you always know what to say and do. You make my day better just by being near me. I love that we can understand each other without words. You’re so handsome too. You have nice strong arms—perfect for javelin and rowing and hugging. Your hair is soft and fluffy. I like the way you smell—kind of citrus-y. Bergamot I think? Anyway, it’s nice. I—I like most everything about you.” 

The tightness in Sylvain’s chest loosened and he hugged Felix back, tightly, “I like you Fe, I like you so much.” 

“I know,” Felix said, and Sylvain could feel Felix’s mouth turn up into a soft shape against his neck. “Do you feel better now?” 

“Yeah, actually I do. Thanks.” 

“Good. It’s called pillow talk. I read about it when I was doing sex research. It’s supposed to help alleviate your unmet desires for intimacy.” 

“Well, I don’t know anything about that, but I do feel a lot better now.” 

“Okay. Then we’ll make it a part of our post-coital activities. Do I have to say different things every time? Or is it the weight that’s working for you?” 

“Uh, I mean, I liked both things, I think? But the words did really help.” 

“Okay.” Felix said, peeling away to look squarely at Sylvain’s nose, “I can do that.” 

~~

Sylvain had agreed to go to Cardiff to help Miklan move into Glenn’s two-bedroom flat over the winter holiday. When he agreed to the endeavour, he thought Felix would go along, or at the very least, join them in Wales for a few days. 

He didn’t—wouldn’t. Sylvain couldn’t blame him. Sixth forms were the worst time in college, but Sylvain missed Felix desperately. True, University of Oxford was just twenty minutes or so by train from Radley, and he could visit as often as he liked. But still. He had wanted Christmas with Felix. 

“There’s New Years, though; you’ll see me at New Years,” Felix had said when he’d asked, settling into one of the worn brown armchairs in the library. He had looked so tired and small, the last thing Felix needed was a stressful move and more than an eyeful of whatever inevitably toxic life Miklan and Glenn were building together. So Sylvain had relented because it was true. He, Felix, Mik, and Glenn would all be at the Gautier estate for New Years as had been a tradition for the past decade. And he could see Felix then when they’d have their parents as a barrier between them and their brothers. 

This is how Sylvain had found himself on the train, alone and miserable for the nearly three-hour train ride from Oxford to Cardiff, watching a cold winter rain drip down the train car windows. 

When he arrived in Cardiff, Glenn was waiting for him at the station. “It was good of you to come,” he said, wrapping Sylvain in a firm hug. 

“Hey, you know, what kind of brother-in-law would I be if I didn’t?” 

Glenn snorted, “Brother-in-law, that’s rich. I didn’t ask you here to have a laugh at me.” 

“What?” Sylvain asked, voiced coloured with genuine surprise, “I thought you were engaged?” 

Glenn rolled his eyes, picking up Sylvain’s duffle, “Remind Mik, won’t you?” 

Sylvain snatched his bag back from Glenn and slung it from his shoulders. “I can carry it. What’d you mean anyway? The wedding isn’t off, is it? You’re moving in together? That’s why I’m here.” 

“No, Mik’s moving in. I think the wedding’s on again. Hard to keep track of.” Glenn rearranged his scarf as they made their way over the narrow cobblestones to their bus stop. 

“Glenn,” Sylvain whispered, “I don’t understand. I—I thought things were better between you?” 

“They were,” Glenn huffed, “but, then, I don’t know. He’ll be better when Six Nations starts. He needs the structure, the adrenaline of winning. Whatever. You want to grab lunch before we go back, actually?” 

“He shouldn’t need rugby to be a good partner. That’s fucked, Glenn.” 

“I know. Let’s not talk about it right now. There’s a Wahaca near here. D’you like Mexican food? They have a Christmas menu.” 

“What? Where’s Mik right now?” Sylvain pushed, not wanting to let it go. 

“I—he’s out? Give me a moment, my mobile’s going off.” Glenn rummaged into his coat pocket, fishing out his phone, “Hello? Felix? What do you mean?” 

“Felix? Is he okay?” 

“He’s getting on a train—Felix, Felix, do your breathing exercises. Yes, Sylvain is here. You wanna talk to him?” Glenn pressed his free arm into his forehead, “Here,” he blindly thrust his phone towards Sylvain, “he wants you.” 

“Fe?” 

“I—I made a mistake,” Felix’s voice sounded far away, muffled, over the phone. 

“A mistake?” 

“I should have gone with you to Cardiff. But I was worried about my exams—I, it was stupid. They’re over now. Anyway, I’m getting on GWR towards Paddington in fifteen minutes.” 

“What? Felix, your parents are expecting you to be on a plane to Inverness.” 

“Well I’m not going to Inverness, I’m going to Cardiff.” 

“Did you at least call you mum to tell her?” 

“Can you do it for me? I don’t want her to yell.” 

Sylvain shot a look at Glenn and put down his duffle, so he could pull out his mobile with his other hand, “Fe, is it too late to make the flight?” 

“It is.” 

Sylvain unlocked his phone and handed it to Glenn, “Okay I’ll have Glenn call her. Remind me of the way, Felix, to Cardiff.” 

Felix was silent for a few moments, “I get off at Reading. I go to platform 9 to take GWR towards Swansea. I get off at Cardiff Central.” 

“Good. I’ll see you in three hours. Be safe and tell me when you get on the second train.” 

“I will.” 

“I love you, Fe.” 

“I know.” And then Felix hung up. 

Glenn looked over as he held Sylvain’s phone to his ear, waiting for Mrs Fraldarius to answer his call. “‘Love you,’ huh?” 

Sylvain handed Glenn back his phone, “Slips out sometimes.” 

“Uh-huh,” Glenn squinted at Sylvain knowingly before turning away, “Hello, Mum? It’s Glenn—Yeah, Sylvain was using my phone. He’s here and fine. Don’t—it’s about Felix.” 

Sylvain picked up his duffle and looked up at the grey afternoon sky and sighed.  _ Christmas with Felix after all _ , he couldn’t stop a warm feeling from shuddering through him. It was irresponsible how it was happening, but he wouldn’t deny that it made him happy. 

“He’s not on the plane. No. He’s coming here. No. He’s on the train. Sylvain made sure he knew the way on the phone just now. No. No. Mum, please. If he can handle the plane by himself he can handle the train. You can call him then if you want.” Glenn carried on with his mother, motioning for Sylvain to follow him.

Sylvain nodded and complied.

“I don’t know, Mum, he didn’t tell me. D’you want to talk to Sylvain? He’s the one who spoke to Felix.” Glenn sighed heavily, “Just call him, honestly. We’re going to grab a bite now, okay, while we wait for him. Bye.” 

“Sorry about this, Glenn,” Sylvain said, taking his phone back from him. “I should have insisted he come with me from the beginning.” 

“You couldn’t have possibly known he’d be this ridiculous.” 

“No, I couldn’t have known.” 

Glenn released a burst of manic laughter. “So Wahaca’s? I’ll message Mik and see if he can be bothered to join us.” 

“I’m game,” Sylvain smiled, although the thought of being trapped with Glenn and Miklan for three hours with no activity besides eating and drinking sounded anything but pleasant. 

“So,” Glenn sighed, “you’re not…um, dating my brother are you?” 

“What? Oh, no. No. We’re not dating.” 

“Then what was—?” 

Sylvain held up a hand, “I told you, it slips out sometimes—I mean, you don’t tell your mates you love them?” 

Glenn shrugged, “I’m a little busy for mates to be honest. But you know Felix can’t date, right?” 

“He’s seventeen, Glenn, of course, he can date,” Sylvain said in disbelief. 

Glenn shook his head, “I mean, I suppose technically he could, but it wouldn’t really be right, would it?” 

Sylvain’s warm feeling was gone, he felt only hot anger building in his skull, “What are you on about? ‘Wouldn’t be right’? That’s fucked, mate. Felix is a person like you and me. He can date if he wants to.” 

“He’s my brother, Sylvain, I know he’s a person. I’m just saying, he’s not emotionally aware or mature enough.” 

“You’re wrong. Felix is as emotionally mature as any seventeen-year-old. Anyone would be privileged to date him.” 

Glenn shook his head, “I think you vastly overestimate the patience of people who aren’t you. Look, you two have been joined at the hip forever. Maybe you don’t have the clearest perspective on how Felix comes off to other people?”

“Whatever.” Sylvain bit his lip and decided it wasn’t worth it to continue this conversation now, “Guess, I am a bit peckish after all.” 

Glenn nodded and thumbed a message on his mobile to Miklan, explaining the new plan. 

~

Miklan arrived at Wahaca’s an hour later in a good mood. Glenn and Sylvain had picked at a plate of nachos waiting for him. Glenn had nursed a beer in preparation for his arrival and was only slightly inebriated. They were almost sweet, Sylvian thought, watching them, and he could almost pretend that Glenn hadn’t specifically started drinking so he could be more pleasant when Miklan got there. 

The second hour was fine, good almost. They ordered small plates to share and tons of sides, and Miklan and Glenn drank more. They laughed and talked about how University was going for Sylvain. They talked sports and even logistics for travel back to Dundee now that Felix would be with them. 

Everything was fine until the second hour was up, and there was still a good forty minutes until they needed to pick Felix up from the train station. 

“Why don’t we take a walk?” Sylvain suggested as Miklan waved down a server to get another beer. 

“Eh? We got time,” Miklan laughed, “Why not have another?” 

Glenn shook his head, “Syl’s right, Mik. We’re well and truly sloshed. We should sober up before Felix gets here.” 

“Aye, alright then—the check please there dearie, if you will,” Miklan said brightly as he caressed the server’s ass. 

“Mik!” Glenn shouted as the waitress yelped in shock. 

“Oh, I do apologise there, dearie, my hand slipped.” 

“Fucking shite, Miklan,” Glenn fumed as he pulled out his wallet and card and jammed it into the server’s hands, “I’m so sorry ma’am. Please, take my card and we’ll leave immediately.” 

The server nodded and dashed away. 

“Bloody hell, Miklan,” Sylvain whispered in disbelief, “being pissed is no excuse for that.” 

“Like she really minded. She recognised me from when I did the Pro14’s.” 

“Playing rugby doesn’t give you permission to touch people,” Glenn sneered. 

“And Glenn and I are right here, Mik, that’s so unbelievably low.” 

“Fuck off. Like he minds. You don’t truly mind, do you love—you’re just a wee embarrassed.” 

Glenn stood up from the table and walked briskly to meet the server as she crossed the restaurant with his card. 

“I don’t know why he puts up with you.” 

“Shut up. You dunno what you’re talking about.” 

“Glenn is your fiancé, Mik. Don’t you want to be with him and only him?” 

“It’s for better and for  _ worse _ , Syl. He likes it when I rile him up like that.” 

“No. No, he doesn’t. The first thing we talked about when I got off the train was about how hurt you’ve made him.” 

“No,” Miklan laughed in disbelief, “You didn’t.” 

“We did.” 

“Boys,” Glenn barked from across the restaurant as he gestured at the door. 

~~

“If you want to start dating, that’s fine, Syl,” Felix said as he stuffed his face with sweet chilli crisps, crumbs falling into his white shirt. They were lounging in Sylvain’s bed, Sylvain against the wall and Felix’s back against his chest. They were watching something on Sylvain’s laptop, enjoying a mid-afternoon snack break. It was mid-May of the summer term during Sylvain’s final year at Radley. 

“What?” Sylvain nearly choked on his 7UP. He struggled to put the can on his nightstand as he straightened them both up a bit. 

“You know, ‘cause I don’t like all that romance stuff? And you clearly do—so you should have it.” Felix was examining a crisp up close, checking its potato to flavouring powder ratio. 

“I—I should date someone else? Someone, not you?” Sylvain finally got out. His nose and throat felt sore from the carbonation, but mostly he felt the acrid nausea of anxiety filling his lungs. 

“Yeah? I mean, you get so disappointed when I don’t want to hold hands. And I can’t go on dates with you. I hate cinemas, parties, public transit, you know? Stuff where there are people? You should date someone you can do all that romantic date stuff with, don’t you think?” 

“But I like you,” Sylvain whispered. 

“Of course, I know that, but you can like me and go on dates with someone else.” 

“Why would I do that? I think the Miklan and Glenn stuff has you well and truly messed up on how relationships should work. We’re not anything like them.” 

“I know that! But I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get to go on dates and go to parties. It wouldn’t be like Glenn and Miklan at all, because you wouldn’t be hurting my feelings.” 

“Is that the only thing you think is wrong with Mik and Glenn?” 

“No, I mean, Miklan hurts the girl’s feelings too. But you’ll be honest with them. It wouldn’t be the same.” 

“What do you mean I’ll be ‘honest with them’? Are we still…shagging in this scenario where I date other people?” 

Felix quirked his head back to look at Sylvain’s face, “I thought that was obvious.” 

“It wasn’t for me.” 

“Why would change the way things are when they already work? The only problem is you feel like you’re missing out on romance. Ergo, you get a girlfriend.” 

“What if I wanted a boyfriend?” 

“No,” Felix shook his head and reached up to capture the side of Sylvain’s face with his crisp powdered fingers, “that wouldn’t be right.” 

Sylvain laughed, “Why not?” 

“Because,” Felix pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, “because that would hurt my feelings. Thus defeating the purpose.” 

“But why though,” Sylvain pressed, “why is me having a girlfriend different from me having a boyfriend?” 

Felix squinted at Sylvain’s nose, scrunching his face up in concentration. “What if he became your best mate? I’m your best mate, Syl. You’re not gonna go and become best mates with a girl are you?” 

Sylvain pressed a kiss into Felix’s forehead, “No, Fe. I understand now. I—I’d never replace you.” 

“Good,” Felix relaxed, cuddling into Sylvain’s sternum. “So you’ll get a girlfriend then?” 

Sylvain sighed, “I’ll think about.” 

~~

It wasn’t until after Felix graduated college and started university that Sylvain got a girlfriend. He had waited a full four years for Felix to change his perspective on romance and dating, but nothing Sylvain did or said had any effect. Felix was convinced that Sylvain would be happier dating—just not him. That and Felix had decided to attend University of Edinburgh—a full six and half hours by train from Oxford. He was lonely and weak, and frankly, heartbroken. A twisted part of himself was convinced that if Felix saw him dating, he’d realize his mistake. That Sylvain dating a woman would be just as wrong as dating a man that wasn’t Felix. 

However, Sylvain pushed those nasty thoughts out of his head and tried to appreciate the relationship he already had with Felix and the potential for something different and pleasant with someone else—as painful as the prospect seemed. And, so it was that Sylvain met a lovely girl—beautiful, quick-witted, funny, bright, friendly personality, kind-hearted—at a cafe he frequented. She was called Deoiridh and was attending university in Oxford too. They hit it off right away, and Sylvian found he was happy enough to bring her home to Dundee for a Gautier Christmas, and Deoiridh felt likewise. 

Sylvain had, of course, asked Felix about bringing Deoiridh to Christmas, and possibly New Years and, much to Sylvain’s chagrin, Felix had seemed largely unphased on their facetime. 

“Right, so I am bringing Deoiridh with me over the winter holiday.” Felix simply yawned, looking up at the exposed bulb dangling from the light fixture above him, “Is that light bothering you?” Sylvain finally asked after a few minutes elapsed of watching Felix pick at the back of his head, unable to keep his gaze from fixing upward. 

“Yeah. I’m going to turn it off.” 

“But—,” Sylvain stuttered as Felix flicked a switch, momentarily causing his screen to blackout, “uh, okay, can you move closer to your window? I did want to see you.” 

Felix shrugged but got up from the desk he was sitting at to lean against the corner of his bed which was illuminated by a column of sun. “Better?” 

“Better,” Sylvain confirmed. Sylvain felt his chest ache uncomfortably as he noticed the way the light highlighted Felix’s features. He looked well enough, maybe a little tired. 

“So, she’ll be there for New Years?” 

“She might, we didn’t quite decide. Although, it seems a bit rude to send her packing for New Years if she really doesn’t want to go if I’m honest?” 

“New Years is our holiday,” Felix replied neutrally, almost blandly as if it were a well known and undisputed fact. It  _ had _ been their holiday, of course, and Sylvain wasn’t keen to miss out on whatever precious amount of Felix time he could get. 

“It is our holiday,” Sylvain agreed. He couldn’t help the sharp pang that jolted through him when he thought of last year when Christmas had been their holiday too. 

Felix nodded, “And you told her that?” 

“I mean, I told her about you, obviously,” Sylvain felt his face flush. He had told Deoiridh  _ about _ Felix, but not explained everything.  _ It hadn’t been relevant _ , he thought,  _ I don’t even know what’s going on between Felix and me right now _ . “And that you would be there for New Years—that we have traditions... She understood, mostly, anyway.” 

“Good,” Felix absently chewed his bottom lip, “I want to see you.” 

“Yeah? I want to see you too. I miss you so much, Fe. It’s hard—not being able to see you on the weekends.” 

Felix squirmed uncomfortably and nodded, “I—Edinburgh—the program—,” Felix tried, and Sylvain felt instantly guilty about how he’d phrased it. 

“No, no, I know, Fe, I understand. You shouldn’t compromise on your future. Being apart physically doesn’t change how things...are between us, right?” 

Felix breathed heavily, working to calm himself, “It’s—it’s still—for me—I don’t want to hurt…”

“For me too. It helps to see you like this. Next semester, can we try to video calls more often?” 

Felix nodded. “Yes. If it will make you hurt less.” 

Sylvain smiled tightly, “Yeah it...it would, Fe. See you, what? In a fortnight?” 

Felix nodded but ended the call before Sylvain could actually say a proper goodbye, which was to be expected. Sylvain had felt an acrid brew of guilty victory after that call. Felix had been upset, but not about Deoiridh. 

And so, two weeks later, when Felix asked Sylvain to stop in Edinburgh so he could take the train up with them to Dundee, Sylvain was pleasantly surprised. 

“Glenn and Mik are at my parents,” he said by way of explanation when Sylvian had asked him on the train. And Sylvain would have been happy to leave it at that, but then he softly added between a thoughtful bite of his Tesco triple cheese sandwich, which Sylvain had bought him, “I didn’t want to wait to see you either.” 

“You don’t get on then? With your brother and—?” Deoiridh asked, leaning a bit across Sylvain to look at Felix across the aisle—her long light brown hair brushing against Sylvain’s arm, so startling it jolted him out of the dreamy headspace he’d entered just from being next to Felix again. 

Felix shrugged, taking another bite. “They’re loud when they fight.” 

Sylvain turned to Deoiridh, shooting her a pained smile, “They fight quite a bit. I told you, didn’t I?” 

“You mentioned they had a strained marriage.” 

“That they do.” Sylvain leaned back into his seat, “But I heard they’re in therapy at least.” 

“Oh, that’s reassuring then.” 

Felix shook his head, “It’s not working.” 

“Glenn told you that?” Sylvian asked, exasperated. 

Felix nodded. 

“Well, Mik’s always been stubborn.” 

“He’s an idiot.” 

Sylvain laughed and turned to Deoiridh, who was silently stunned at their exchange. “It’s true,” he shrugged. 

Felix was quiet for most of the train ride after finishing his sandwich, otherwise occupied by a digital lecture he’d wanted to finish. And so Sylvain and Deoiridh easily passed the time with light conversation. 

~ 

Felix wasn’t sure how this was supposed to work—they hadn’t talked about the logistics. He trusted Sylvain had adequately explained things to Deoiridh—he said he had—but that didn’t account for how  _ different  _ things were. Sylvain hadn’t sat next to him on the train. Sylvain hadn’t set up the spare futon in his bedroom, in case he didn’t want to share Syl’s bed. In fact, the Gautier’s had put him up in the guest bedroom, pushing him out of Sylvian’s room all together.

It wasn’t right, it certainly wasn’t usual, and he was afraid that things would continue in this fashion for the entirety of winter break.  _ Which would be unfair _ , and  _ hurtful _ , and they’d promised not to hurt each other. It was only logical that he confront Sylvian. 

The three of them were on the long sofa in the living room, watching some program Felix wasn’t interested in. Deoiridh was cuddled up to Sylvain, resting her head on his chest as she had been absolutely every time they settled in to watch telly, and Sylvain had one hand in her hair, absently playing with the long chestnut coloured strands, while Felix was tucked up at the other end. 

Just looking at them made his stomach turn uncomfortably. Surely if Deoiridh picked the film,  _ he  _ should get to sit with Sylvain. There had to be some kind of system to keep things balanced. “When will it be my turn?” Felix asked, fiddling with the knit of his loose jumper. It seemed like a fair way to pose his complaint since he wasn’t sure how exactly Sylvain had explained their situation to Deoiridh. Maybe there already was a system, and they’d failed to communicate it to him. That seemed plausible. 

Sylvian mustn’t have heard him, or processed what Felix said because it took a long moment before he replied, “What?” 

Felix tired again, firmer and louder, “When is it going to be my turn? It’s been Deoiridh’s turn the whole time we’ve been here.” 

Deoiridh lifted her head off of Sylvian’s chest and craned her head to look at his face, “My turn? Syl? What is he?” 

“I don’t?” Sylvian flushed and shook his head, “Felix—,” he fully shifted to look at him, angling his body in front of Deoiridh as if he were shielding her. 

“You know, you know—you told her about—Syl, I—we get to,” Felix choked on his words.

“Okay,” Sylvain said, standing up, “Felix, can we talk about this upstairs?” 

Felix nodded fervently. 

“Sylvain, what is—?”

“De, uh, I think—can you let me?” 

“Oh, oh, oh, okay. Sure yeah,” she replied in a hushed voice, with wide concerned eyes. 

Sylvain quickly guided Felix off the sofa and out of the room, a firm hand pressed into his back. 


	3. Define My Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of last chapter's memory, flashback to Wales, the aftermath of the Maeve situation

As soon as Sylvain’s childhood bedroom door slammed shut behind them, he wrapped Felix in a tight embrace, attempting to press the panic out of his body, but Felix pushed back, knocking Sylvain into the door. 

“Answer—answer first,” Felix spat, crouching down next to Sylvain’s bed, bringing his hands over his face. 

“Answer what, Fe? What were you talking about? ‘Your turn’? You can’t—you shouldn’t say stuff like that...like I’m a toy you're sharing.”

“We are sharing you,” he said miserably into his hands, “Or I thought we were. Do I not get to touch you? Sleep next to you? When did we decide that was over?” 

Sylvain shook his head in disbelief, “You thought we’d share a bed...with Deoiridh here?” 

“I always sleep in your room. I’d—I’d never even been in the guest room. It’s cold in there and it smells like mothballs and the furnace is too loud at night!” 

“Uh, well, I’m sorry about—,” 

“You didn’t even offer the futon. I mean, she can sleep in the bed if she has back problems or whatever. But I get to sleep with you sometimes too, right?” 

“Wait a minute, Felix. Think through this with me—do you think De would be comfortable sleeping in the bed with, uh, us sleeping on the futon in the same room?”

“Would she not?” 

“She’s my girlfriend, Felix. You wanted me to get a girlfriend, you repeatedly—argh!” Sylvain slowly lay down on the floor, covering his own face with the crook of his elbow, “What do you want from me, Felix?” 

“I want to spend winter break with my best mate. I want it to be normal! I want it to be like always,” Felix balled himself up the best he could against the bed frame, “I thought you weren’t going to hurt me—I thought we weren’t going to be like _them_.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you at all! I’m sorry Felix; I’m so sorry, we should have talked about this way more than we did. That’s my fault. I’m sorry. But I’m also really confused.” 

“We should have,” Felix said bitterly, breathing heavily into his hands, “made a document or something, detailing the arrangement. The terms of a girlfriend.”

Sylvain let out a small, hysterical laugh, “I—I don’t know about that, but we definitely need to be on the same page.” 

“So I can’t sleep in your room while she’s here at all?” 

“No, I really don’t think I can swing that.” Sylvain tore his arm from his face and pushed himself up. 

“What if she slept in the guest room for half the nights?” 

“Felix.” 

“What if you slept in the guest room with me for half the nights?” 

Sylvain shook his head, pushed himself up onto his knees and shuffled to where Felix was against the bed. 

“Is that a no?” Felix asked, peaking out at Sylvain between his fingers. 

“It’s a no. What if she leaves for New Years? You can sleep in my room after she leaves.” Sylvain opened his arms in invitation. 

Felix moved into his arms easily. “That’s a whole week away—and would make up most of winter break. You live near her—she can sleep with you whenever she wants. It’s not fair.” 

“I’ll…” Sylvain put a hand into Felix’s hair, pulling out the loose hair tie that kept it in place, “I’ll ask her if she would be okay if we had a sleepover one night. Maybe she would understand that.” 

“Can it be tonight?” 

“I’ll ask her.” He began to brush Felix’s hair out with his fingers. 

Felix nodded against Sylvain, “I want to sit with you on the sofa too.” 

“You mean cuddle?” 

Felix nodded. 

“I...you can lean on me? There’s no reason you can’t lean on me, but you need to be respectful of De’s space too.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well...what exactly are you wanting to do?” 

“This. Stuff like this.” 

“Hmm, I mean, I…let’s start with a lean and see how that goes, okay?” 

“Fine,” Felix said, pulling his head up to look at Sylvain. “But I don’t think that this is a balanced arrangement, and after this holiday we ought to come up with a fairer solution that’s agreeable to all parties. Preferably in writing.” 

“I don’t think any arrangement would ever be fair to De,” Sylvain replied softly, “if I’m honest.” 

Felix cocked his head, “What? Why not?” 

“How can it be fair,” Sylvain breathed, glancing down to Felix’s lips, “if I like you so much more?” 

“She should already know that you do.” His breath hitched as Sylvain moved the hand in Felix’s hair to the back of his neck, pulling Felix’s face just centimetres away from his own. “It’s not a secret.” 

Sylvain ached to kiss Felix, even though it was cruel. He found he didn’t care too much about being cruel if it would undo the tight knot of pain in his chest. He could feel each of Felix’s soft exhales against his lips. It was a sweet kind of torture, sending little electric pinpricks everywhere they touched, but he didn’t move any closer. 

“There’s a moratorium on snogging, too?” Felix asked as he shifted to straddle Sylvain’s lap. 

“I—I’m not sure. I’m starting to think what De doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her.” 

“What happened to intentions over outcomes ethics?” 

“Quite possibly the kiss moratorium you imposed by moving so far away,” Sylvain mumbled, wrapping his arms round Felix’s waist. 

Felix hummed, “So which is it? A moratorium I can break by the virtue of my proximity? Or do you need to ask Deoiridh for her input?” 

“I can’t say I particularly value her opinion on this matter,” Sylvain slid his fingertips under the hem of Felix’s jumper to access the warm skin underneath. 

“You’re not going to answer the question?” Felix asked, brushing a finger down the shell of Sylvian’s ear. 

“Don’t be obtuse, Fe, please.”

Felix’s gaze flickered up to Sylvain’s eyes for a moment and Sylvain watched as cold realisation swept over his features. “You won’t do it unless I make you.” 

“I want to kiss you, so, so badly.” 

“You didn’t explain us to her at all, did you?” 

Sylvain shook his head and gripped Felix tighter, like he was afraid he would disappear, “I told her you were special to me. That we were best mates and childhood friends. That there would be times when I had to prioritize you.” 

“But you didn’t explain what that meant,” Felix gripped the collar of Sylvian’s button-down, “you lied to her.” 

“It’s not a lie yet, technically,” Sylvain said weakly, “we’re not doing anything.” 

“But you want to. You want to,” Felix spat the words out like they were poison, “cheat on her.” 

All the good electric feelings buzzing in Sylvain’s brain about touching Felix plummeted, leaving only guilt and despair. 

Felix pushed Sylvain over and stood up. 

“I don’t,” Sylvain said, at last, looking up at Felix from where he lay morosely on the floor, “I just want you.” 

Felix walked over to Sylvain’s bed and sat down. 

“What are you doing?” Sylvain asked, lifting his head to look at him. 

“I’m thinking.” 

“About?” 

“Whether or not I care about theoretically hurting Deoiridh’s feelings.” 

“What?” Sylvain sat up. 

“You clearly don’t care enough to be honest with her, which means she’s not a serious girlfriend.” 

“I mean, we’ve been dating for months. I did take her home for Christmas to meet my family.” 

“You did that out of whatever guilty sense of obligation you have for her,” Felix waved his hand dismissing Sylvian. 

He shrugged. 

Felix sighed, “Which of these are your plan? Number one: break up with her. Number two: come clean and accept the consequences. Or number three: do nothing.” 

“Is this a thought exercise?” 

“Which one are you planning, Syl. I deserve to know.” 

Sylvain sighed, “Number one.” 

“I can live with that,” Felix said, standing up from the bed and crossing back over to Sylvain, offering a hand to him. 

Sylvain took it and helped himself up. “So what does that—?” 

“Ask her about the sleepover. But more importantly, make her go home for New Years. Blame me—I don’t care. If she doesn’t break up with you after that...break up with her at the beginning of next term,” Felix jammed his finger into Sylvain’s sternum. 

~ 

Sylvain did ask Deoiridh if she would mind if he and Felix had a sleepover that night. 

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before, so this is uncharted territory for us—and he’s been really looking forward to having a sleepover, like when we were kids.” 

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Deoiridh nodded, “he’s really missed you.” 

“Yeah. He just didn’t realise that we’d be sharing a bed the whole time, since sleepovers are one of the traditional aspects of visiting each other.” 

“So that’s where the taking turns came from, I see, that makes perfect sense.” 

“Yeah. Thank you for being so understanding. I’m sorry about the miscommunication.” 

“And thank you for explaining it to me, I feel much better now.” 

Sylvain nodded, “So would you mind? If Felix and I had a sleepover tonight? He confided in me that the guest room has been an uncomfortable experience for him since it’s an unfamiliar space.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realise!” 

“Yes. Usually, he’d sleep on a spare futon in my room, but obviously, that wouldn’t be appropriate now.” 

“Of course, yes,” Deoiridh said, “I had no idea how hard this change was for him.” 

“It would just be tonight,” Sylvain pushed on, “and possibly it would make the guest room less uncomfortable for him going forward.” 

“I don’t see why not. If it will help him feel less scared in the new room, that would be a good thing!” 

Sylvain just nodded and thanked her for her understanding again before excusing himself to tell Felix. Felix, however, was waiting for him in the stairwell. 

“Now I hate her,” Felix hissed from where he was perched, hands wrapped round the bannister, “for infantilising me.” 

“I’m sorry—,” Sylvian began, silently moving up the stairs to stand in front of Felix. 

“And you encouraged it.” 

“Only because it was the fastest method.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “I’m still miffed.” 

“Well it worked, so I can make it up to you later.” 

Felix huffed and crossed his arms. 

Sylvain cleared his throat and spoke loud enough that Deoiridh would hear him, “Felix, why don’t you come and watch a film with us?” 

“Why not,” Felix said blandly as he stood from his perch on the staircase, leaning into Sylvain’s space, relishing the equalization of their heights with the stairs between them. “Do I get to pick?” 

~

Sylvain’s entire body thrummed with anticipation as he shakily navigated the television menu. He would privately admit to a feeling sick kind of pleasure at how easily he’d convinced Deoiridh that Felix hadn’t in fact unsubtly asked her when it was going to be _his_ turn to shag Sylvain with the same tone he’d have used with a kid who’d taken too long giving back one of his 3-D combination puzzles. That, and she’d agreed to let them sleep together. Sleeping together hadn’t meant _just sleeping_ with Felix for nearly half a decade. _And he wants to_ , Sylvain’s brain kept reminding him, _he’s been looking forward to it the entire time. Expecting it._

“Deoiridh,” Felix asked as he got out his favourite of the blankets Sylvain’s parents kept in the living room, “can I sit with Sylvain this time?” 

“Oh, of course, dear,” Deoiridh replied brightly. 

Felix nodded and crowded up next to Sylvain on the settee, arranging himself into his usual curled position, “Are we ready to start the film?” Sylvain asked, trying to calm himself as he felt one of Felix’s bent legs press into his thigh. 

“Just about,” Deoiridh hummed, getting her own blanket out of the box before settling down on Sylvain’s other side. 

Sylvain turned his head to Felix and tried to convey a quiet apology, but Felix’s expression was neutral and unphased. 

“Alright then,” Deoiridh said pleasantly, “I think we’re all settled in.” 

Sylvain nodded and pressed play. 

If he said film night wasn’t an excruciating hour and thirty minutes, Sylvain would be lying. Deoiridh sweetly laid her head on his shoulder, all while every point of contact with Felix’s body felt white-hot, it was unbearable, and the only thing he could think about. 

When it was over, and they all got up from the sofa, De kissed him goodnight and said, “See you boys at breakfast,” waving as she left the living room. 

Felix stood behind him and wrapped his arms about Sylvain’s waist and spoke softly into his shoulder, “Does it make it easier to imagine she’s given her consent when she says it like that?” 

Sylvain shivered, “I know you won’t let me pretend.” 

Felix nuzzled his face into Sylvain’s back, “I can’t control how you think about it.” 

“No, but you’ll remind me.” Sylvain turned in Felix’s arms so that they were facing each other. 

“Am I hurting you?” 

“You’re not hurting me in a way I didn’t ask for—that I didn’t design. If anything I’m hurting myself.” 

Felix nodded, “Let’s go to bed.” 

“Yeah.”

Felix released his arms from Sylvain, and they silently made their way up the stairs and down the hall to the guest room. 

Sylvain gently closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. He watched as Felix moved about the room—pulling out his pajamas, comb, travel toiletries—as if it were any other night, as if they hadn’t been tortuously separated for months. 

“Are we just going to sleep?” Sylvain asked weakly, unsure he should have said anything. Maybe it was better to live out De’s reality. _This could just be a sleepover, a friend comforting a friend._ Maybe the only person he needed to hurt was, in fact, himself. 

“Is that what you want?” 

Sylvian swallowed hard, “No.” 

Felix nodded but turned back to his night routine. 

“Felix,” he choked out, “tell me what I’m allowed to have. Please.” 

“I didn’t realise it was up to me.” 

“Of course it is—you’re the one I care about. You’re the one—,” 

“Come here,” Felix interrupted as he set down his things, and Sylvain went, stumbling forward like a fawn on new legs. 

Felix brushed the fingers of one hand down his cheek before pulling Sylvain’s body flush with his own. Sylvain’s heart hammered in his chest as Felix inclined his head to softly bring their lips together. 

Sylvian melted into the kiss, pulling Felix tighter against him. He felt a charged, desperate kind of energy surge through him as Felix deepened the kiss. Sylvain pressed his hands roughly down Felix’s back, lifting the hem of his jumper up. 

Felix gasped as Sylvain shifted to hoist Felix up, encouraging him to wrap his legs about Sylvain. He walked them to the edge of the bed and laid Felix down. Sylvain moved over his lithe body, kissing down his neck and whispering reverently, “I missed you so, so much, I—I love you, I—,” 

“S-shut up,” Felix choked out, his face red, “d-don’t—,” 

“Please, Fe, let me say it—I love you, every part, every centimetre, I want to—,” 

“Shh! You’re embarrassing and too loud.” 

Sylvain laughed, “Sorry, sorry. I’m a little out of my head. Overeager. I can’t believe this is happening—feel like I’m dreaming.” 

Felix tugged on Sylvain’s button-down where it was tucked into his slacks, “Take this off.” 

He nodded and loosened the buttons by his neck as Felix impatiently finished tugging the hem out before finally yanking it over Sylvain’s head. As soon as Sylvain’s torso was free of its confines, Felix pulled Sylvain down, desperately clinging to his back as he kissed the column of Sylvain’s neck. 

“Wait, wait, let me take off your jumper at least,” Sylvain laughed as Felix relented, releasing Sylvain so he could angle his body up enough to allow Sylvain to slide the soft knit off his torso. 

“I’m impatient—overeager—too,” he admitted, turning his gaze down, “I—I hate being so far—,” 

“I-I want to move in together next year—” Sylvain blurted out. 

“Y-you do?” 

“I’m finished with uni after this year, and I don’t want to wait. One semester has been torture—I-I want to go wherever you are. Is—is that still okay?” 

“It-it is s-still okay, Syl,” Felix stuttered, “I-I never w-wanted anything to ch-change. I still want-t t-to b-be w-where you are too. I-I’m s-s-sorry!” 

“Fe, why are you sorry?” Sylvain brushed a strand of Felix’s hair back out of his face. 

“B-because it’s s-so s-selfish of me t-t-to keep h-holding you b-back,” Felix pushed his face into Sylvain’s neck, hiding. 

“I-I just told you, didn’t I? I don’t want to be apart either. So it’s not selfish, it’s not holding me back at all.” 

Felix nodded and lay his head back down on the mattress, “I was s-s-scared y-you weren’t going t-to want t-to t-touch me ag-gain b-because you were being so w-weird.” 

“I was scared you wouldn’t let me. I was scared—,” 

“It-t d-doesn’t matter, r-right? It’s d-decided—even if-f y-you have a girl-f-friend w-we n-never h-have t-to stop. Y-you d-don’t want to either.” 

“I don’t want to stop,” Sylvain agreed, mumbling into the top of Felix’s hair as he pressed a kiss there before sitting up, “but I thought you didn’t want me to be a cheater.” 

“Y-you’re a l-liar, n-not a ch-cheater. You s-said, you s-said you didn’t w-want to ch-cheat, s-so we’re n-not. W-with me it’s-it’s not cheating.” 

“What is it then?” 

“It’s just,” Felix’s breathing finally became more regular, “‘us time’. Whatever we do together alone like this, nothing else—no rules apply.”

Sylvain looked down at Felix as he brushed this hair back again, “I—I believe it.” 

“Good,” Felix said, fixing his piercing amber eyes on Sylvain’s, “no more talking.”

Sylvain nodded and softly kissed Felix, moving along his jaw and neck and chest—peppering kisses everywhere he could reach. 

They shifted together, removing all of their garments, slowly taking each other apart—unhurried and with reverence. They knew the places and movements the other needed—practised and mastered in the art of their love. 

~~

Sylvain doesn’t remember meeting Felix, he was only a toddler, but he does remember his mother warning him not to be disappointed when they went to visit the Fraldarius family over summer holiday when he was 8. “He doesn’t quite speak yet, dear, and well, he doesn’t really play with others.” 

“What d’you mean he doesn’t play?” 

“Well, he plays in his own way. I just want you to...manage your expectations, dear.” 

Sylvain didn’t know what his mother meant nor what to expect when Mrs Fraldarius led him up the ancient staircase of their home and paused in front of the door that led into their playroom. 

“Sylvain, dear, did your parents explain that Felix is autistic?” 

Sylvian shook his head no, “What’s that? Mum said he doesn’t talk, is that true?” 

“No, he can speak, it’s just harder for him. And it’s more comfortable for him to speak using a communication board or his hands. A communication board—do you? Ah, well it’s a board with pictures and words on it. He can point to what he means.” 

Sylvian nodded. 

“Okay then, dear? So Autism, uh, Felix was born with it and he will always have it. He can’t give it to you, it’s not a disease. It’s a neurological—uh, brain difference.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Autism-It's not something bad, okay? It just means he experiences things differently—“ 

“What kind of things?” 

“Um, lots of things. Like his ears are more sensitive to noises, and the touch or feel of things can hurt him—” 

“Oh, okay. So I’ll just be quiet and careful when we play.” 

“Yes, good dear; and it might not seem like he wants to play—“ 

“Mum told me he plays, uh, in his own way. I get it. Can I meet him now?” 

“Yes, alright then, dear.” 

Mrs Fraldarius ushered Sylvain in through the door to the playroom but gestured for him to wait by the door. The boy, Felix Sylvian assumed, was in the far corner of the room, pressed up against the wall, fidgeting with a toy Sylvain didn’t recognize. 

Mrs Fraldarius walked up to Felix and knelt down near him. “Felix, Sylvain is here. Remember I told you he was coming?” 

Felix didn’t respond and kept turning the toy in his hand. Sylvian could see it was a pyramid-shaped toy with many coloured pieces that he could turn and shift in his hands. 

“Let’s meet him? You can bring your puzzle.” 

It took a moment, but Felix stood up and blindly followed his mother to where Sylvain stood. 

“Felix, this is Sylvain.” 

Sylvian waved, “Can, can I ask what that toy is?” 

“Pyraminx,” Felix said in a small voice, eyes focused on the toy in front of him. 

“Yes, it’s a Pyraminx puzzle. Do you like puzzles, Sylvian? Or Rubix cubes?” Mrs Fraldarius asked. 

“I love puzzles!” 

“Oh, excellent, Felix collects them. Uh, here, why don’t we get you your own…” 

~~

Felix wasn’t interested in helping with the move. It was loud and cumbersome, and he realised he’d be more in the way than anything. So he pulled out his headphones and his phone and hunkered down in an already empty wardrobe in Miklan’s flat. 

Felix scrolled through the pre-downloaded podcasts saved on his phone and selected one on medieval Anglo-Saxon military techniques. It was an episode he’d listened to before, but he wanted to hear it again. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat crouched in there listening to podcasts, it didn’t feel like a very long time, but suddenly the closet door slammed open. 

“Felix,” Glenn burst in, startling him, “We’ve been looking for you!” 

“S-sorry?” 

“Why are you in here? Wait, never mind. It’s fine.” Glenn huffed. 

“Okay.” Felix took off his headphones and rested them on his neck. “Is it time to go?” 

“Yeah, it is,” Felix shifted to stand, “wait, wait,” Glenn said, putting his hand out, “I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Uh, okay? You can talk to me.” 

Glenn sighed, “Are you dating Sylvian?” 

Felix cocked his head, scowling, “No. Why—?” 

“Did he? Ugh, I can’t believe I’m asking this—are, did he? Did he mention wanting to date you?” 

“I—I told him he should date someone. Not me. I—,”

“So he did ask?” 

“Well,” Felix considered, “no, he never asked. Mum keeps telling me that I’m holding him back from his life and stuff like that, but I told him ages—maybe three years ago?—that he could date someone.”

“You told him he _could_?”

“I told him he _should,_ and he said he’d think about it. I guess he’s still thinking about it. Why are we even talking about this?”

“You can’t date Sylvain.”

“I don’t even want to!” 

“Then stop leading him on about it. He’s pathetically in love with you and—,”

“I told him to stop, okay. I told him to stop, but I can’t—,” 

“Look, look at me, Felix. You are enabling this by letting him be so close to you.” 

“I don’t want things to change though…” Felix said, shaking his head, “I want everything to stay just how it is.” 

“You’re hurting him, Felix, you're hurting him. Things can’t stay how they are. Mum’s right, you are holding him back. You don’t want a relationship with him; I’m getting married to his brother—you’re going to be related—,” 

“Only in law.”

“Yes, only in law,” Glenn continued, “but still, isn’t that enough for you? To be like brothers? Don’t chase after him, okay? You have to let him be his own person without you.” 

“I get it,” Felix said, bowing his head into his knees and holding himself close together, “I get it already. I don’t want to hurt him.” 

Glenn sighed, “Great. Now come on.” Glenn gestured to the door. 

Felix scrambled up, still clutching his arms around himself as he darted out of the room. Outside the flat, Sylvain and Miklan were waiting by the car. 

“You okay, Fe?” Sylvain asked, taking a step towards him. 

Felix swallowed. “I’m not okay.” 

“Oh, what can I?” Sylvian took another step, reaching out. 

Behind him, Felix heard Glenn opening the door and stepping outside. “Don’t,” Felix barked, “don’t touch me. I don’t need your help.” 

“Oh, okay…” 

Miklan laughed, “Trouble in paradise.” 

“Shut up,” Sylvian huffed, and Miklan raised his hands. 

“Let’s go,” Glenn said gruffly and gestured to the vehicle. 

They piled in and Miklan began driving. Felix felt his mobile buzz and he removed it from his pocket. 

**From Syl (13:45):** _what happened?_

Felix glanced over at Sylvain. His head was resting against the window, and he was looking nonchalant out. But Felix could see his phone in his hand. 

**To Syl (13:45):** _nothing_

_just got a lecture from Glenn_

_don’t worry about it_

Sylvain glanced down at his phone and then shot Felix a small frown. 

**From Syl (13:45):** _for hiding out? we didn’t expect you to help with the move tho :(_

**To Syl (13:45):** _i don’t want to talk about it_

_sorry i yelled at you_

_i didn’t mean it—you can touch me_

_you can always touch me_

_well, almost always_

Sylvain smiled silently at his phone before pocketing it and shifting his head from leaning against the window to inclining towards Felix. 

Felix angled his own body a bit more towards Sylvain. He was scared Glenn would yell at him again if he got any closer. He wasn’t supposed to chase after Sylvain, even if Sylvain was chasing after him. _It’s close enough,_ he thought, looking at the small void between their bodies. _It will have to be close enough._

~~~

Felix huffed, “Sex is the least important part?” 

Sylvain smoothed his hand over Felix’s long arm, admiring the lean muscles underneath the skin, “I mean, I would hate to give it up, but I—I—you make my life feel complete, whole. I’d want you to be in my life no matter what.” 

“But I like it. Are—are you saying you don’t like it? Are you just going along with it because—-“ 

“No, Felix—of course, I like it. But I love you, and I’d do almost anything to make you comfortable.” 

Felix's face got scrunched up in concentration and he shifted uncomfortably back from Sylvian’s touch, “Don’t—don’t say the “l” stuff, Syl. Please. I—I feel all weird when you—,”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just...I feel that way. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I still feel that way. Dating other people doesn’t make it go away, Fe. Doing romantic stuff with other people doesn’t make me stop feeling things for you.” 

Felix shook his head, “No.” Felix brought his arms to his head, covering his eyes—continuing to shake his head over and over. 

“Fe,” Sylvain stepped closer, “don’t grip your face so tightly, you’ll hurt yourself.” 

“No, no, no,” Felix whispered as he jerkily tried to remove his hands from clawing at his face. 

“Let me help you, please Felix,” Sylvain reached for Felix’s forearms. 

“Syl—“ Felix bit out as Sylvain pulled Felix’s hands off his head and crushed him in a tight embrace. 

Felix’s breathing slowed and he stopped shaking. “Better?” Sylvain asked quietly. 

“Better.” After a long moment, “I know I’m being selfish Syl, you’re allowed to feel your feelings. Even if it’s something sticky like love.”

“Sticky?” Sylvain asked. 

“Sticky, yeah. It’s thick in your chest—like, like taffy caught on your teeth. It’s sticky, suffocating, tight and painful. Isn’t it?” 

“I mean, it is sometimes I guess. It’s not always though. It can be warm and soft. Like being wrapped in a fleece blanket.” 

“Is...is that how I make you feel?” 

“Yeah? Sometimes. But it’s other things too. You—you make me feel protected and comfortable, like shoes that fit right. Like a favourite jumper.” 

“So it doesn’t hurt?” 

“To love you? No, Fe, it doesn’t hurt at all.” 

Felix twisted in Sylvain’s firm embrace to shift his arms round Sylvian’s lower back and squeezed. “Glenn always made love sound so painful. I thought, I thought I was hurting you. I’m sorry. I—I misunderstood.” 

Sylvain laughed softly, “Fe, how many times have I told you? We’re not them. You don’t hurt me. Loving you isn’t hurting me, not one bit.” 

“Okay,” Felix pressed tighter, “you can love me then. But I’m not...going to fancy restaurants and eating weird food. You can’t make me go to the shops with you or to the pub or something. Well, we can go to the pub if it’s not crowded.” 

Sylvain truly laughed then, full and hearty, “Felix, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, okay? Things don’t have to change.” 

Felix considered this, “Well some things have to change.” 

“Such as?” 

“No more girlfriends. And tell mum and dad. They’ll be so happy I’m finally not ‘taking advantage of your kindness’ or ‘holding you back’.” 

“Wait, are you saying you want to date me then?” 

“Obviously. If you love me and it’s not going to hurt, obviously we should be dating.” 

“It wasn’t so obvious to you before?” 

“Well, I’ve just learned something important.” Felix nuzzled his face into Sylvain’s sternum, “that love feels warm and safe and comfortable. That’s how you make me feel.” 

“So are you saying—?” 

“Don’t make me say it,” Felix sighed, cutting him off. 

“Never,” Sylvain whispered, pressing a kiss into the top of Felix’s head.

~ 

Maeve didn’t fancy herself stupid. She could tell there was, in fact, something not all together right going on between Sylvain and his flatmate. Childhood friends or not, they were too close, too intertwined. And so, when the sorry creature finally left his room that fateful evening and the first thing out of his mouth was, “When are you going home?” she sort of lost it. 

She knew, _of course_ , that Felix had trouble with words _or communication, or whatever_ , but to her, that could not explain his insistence that it was, “his turn” with Sylvain. In that moment, there was no explanation that could have soothed her—she became pure rage. 

But as the hours stretched while she sat alone, sobbing on and off in her own flat about her inevitable breakup with Sylvain—he was undeniably fit, but Maeve always knew in the back of her mind the situation with the flatmate would be their downfall—she realised she _did want_ an explanation after all. 

She called Sylvain. It was late, she knew that, but to be honest, she couldn’t be bothered to care. So when he didn’t answer she called, and called, and called again. “If I can’t sleep he doesn't get to,” she manically whispered to herself as a mantra until at last, exhaustion took her. 

Maeve felt ridiculous embarrassed when she woke up, just a few hours later, not at all fully rested and in a partial dream state, and called Sylvain an embarrassing amount of time again to no avail. 

At last she decided she would fix herself up and treat herself to a lovely brunch at Ostara. Maeve was enjoying a leisurely stroll through Keddie Park, along the Waters of Leith, enjoying the greenery until the path let out at the intersection of Coburg and Couper Street where the quaint robin’s egg blue building that housed Ostara lay. 

It was a pleasant, calming walk, but of course, as she crossed the cobblestone intersection she felt a buzz from her mobile deep within her overcoat pocket. 

**From Wanker (11:26):** _I got your messages and you deserve an explanation. I can meet you somewhere to talk about it. Feel like we should do this in person?_

**To Wanker (11:31):** _fine. I’m at Ostara Cafe. Treat me to brunch._

**From Wanker (11:38):** _Ok._

Maeve blinked at her phone for half a minute, disbelieving her own eyes. It was never so easy to convince Sylvain to come out for brunch. And then her phone buzzed again: 

**From Wanker (11:39):** _Felix is coming but he’ll just be walking around the park._

_There it is_ , Maeve thought as she sighed audibly. 

**To Wanker (11:39):** _whatever_

Maeve pocketed her phone and leaned against a grey stoned building, loitering while she waited for Sylvain and Felix to arrive. 

They did, at last, show up about fifteen minutes later—Felix in his bulky headphones over his ears, looking skyward and Sylvain smiling at him with his usual dopey grin. Maeve felt her stomach turn just from watching them. 

Sylvain crossed Couper Street to meet her, but Felix darted off in the other direction, into the forested park area. “Alright there, Maeve,” Sylvain greeted, nodding his head. 

“Alright, yeah,” Maeve sighed, “you sure he doesn’t want breakfast?” She asked, nodding towards where Felix disappeared. 

Sylvain laughed, “Yeah, no, he doesn’t eat anything on the menu here. And, uh, well, we should talk.” 

Maeve shrugged, “Let’s go then.” 

They entered the quaint little cafe and ordered their food, selecting a little table in the back to sit down at. “So,” Sylvain began, “I’m sorry, Maeve, things...none of this was fair to you.” 

Maeve nodded, not entirely sure where Sylvain was going. It had been unfair, of course, but how unfair she didn’t know. _Best to pretend I do_ , she thought. 

“You, uh, have every right to be furious with me, and with the situation I put you through. I wasn’t honest about things from the beginning—and I should have been.” 

Maeve swallowed, “So when he said—,” 

Sylvain interrupted, “I have been in love with Felix for years, and he, uh, he’s known about it the whole time—,” 

Maeve’s eyes bulged, “Jesus fucking—,” 

“And we have had an on and off sexual relationship for the better part of a decade.” 

“You are seriously fucked in the head, you know that?” 

“Like I said, this entire situation was completely unfair to you, and I apologise for putting you in it. I should have never attempted to pursue a romantic relationship without being upfront about…all of that.” 

“Yeah, no, you really shouldn’t’ve.” 

“I do not expect your forgiveness nor your understanding, for that matter. I know that breakfast doesn’t even begin to cover the depth of the hurt I’ve caused…”

“No fucking shite—Jesus, Mary—,” 

“So my only purpose here today was to provide you with the explanation in hopes that you may eventually feel some closure from this situation.” 

Maeve swallowed, “I think it goes without saying that I never want to see you again.” 

Sylvain nodded and smiled his cheeky shit smile that Maeve had always loathed, “Yeah, yeah, that checks out. As I said,” Sylvain said, reaching into his wallet and taking out a fifty pound note and pressing it on the table, “breakfast on me. Sorry for everything, I am a complete and utter ass.” 

And Maeve was too exhausted and bewildered to say anything else as he pushed in his chair and waltzed out of the cafe. 

~ 

“How did it go,” Felix asked, watching the way the leaves rustled in the high branches of the tree in front of them.

“Oh, it went really well.” 

“Is that a joke?” 

“I mean, yes and no. It went as well as it could have.” 

Felix hummed and stuck his hand out toward Sylvain and wiggled it expectantly. 

“You, ah, want me to?” 

“Just take it already,” Felix huffed. Sylvain grinned and snatched Felix’s hand, bringing it inside his coat pocket. 

“Let’s go home.” 

  
  
  



End file.
